Surrender to Love (5 page)

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Authors: Raine English

Tags: #gothic romance

BOOK: Surrender to Love
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“The type who attracts women like crazy and just as easily breaks their hearts.”

He stared back at her. “I’ll make you a promise, Tara Spencer. I won’t break
your
heart
.

She didn’t believe that for a minute. However, she wasn’t going to give him the chance. “Thanks for letting us borrow Tony for the day.”

“You’re welcome. It’s really something what he can accomplish in a short period of time. I barely recognized the house when I got home a while ago.”

“Change is hard for my grandmother, but it’s impossible not to like this one.”

“How are you doing with her, you know, being number five,” he joked.

“We had a little incident last night, or I should say this morning, because it was like two a.m. I thought she was an intruder and nearly clubbed her over the head with a broom.”

His eyes grew wide. “You didn’t?”

“I did. She was wandering around in the dark when I thought she was up in bed asleep.”

“What was she doing?”

Tara hesitated. “Talking to Addison.”

Easton’s brows shot up. “You’re kidding.”

“If only I was.”

“Guess that explains all the different aides.”

“Yep.”

“Do you think maybe she’s getting a little senile?”

Tara shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s pretty adamant that she sees him. And most other times she seems perfectly normal.”

“Well, how do you like the island, aside from its ghosts?”

“From what I’ve seen, which is only this,” she waved her hand out in front of her, “it’s beautiful.”

“That it is.” The heat from his stare brought color to her cheeks. “Come on.” He took hold of her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go for a ride.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Why not? It’ll be fun. I’m really not that bad of a guy. Just don’t ask my dad or Bennett.”

Although he was joking, she could tell a part of him wasn’t, and she wondered what their relationship was really like. “I can’t leave my grandmother.”

“Of course you can. I’m sure she doesn’t expect you to stay locked up in that house forever. Besides, what are you going to do when you want to go out on a date?”

She was caught off guard with that question. “Who says I’m going to be dating?”

He grinned. “I do. Anyone as gorgeous as you shouldn’t be alone. Now go inside and tell your grandmother you’ll be back in an hour, and grab a sweater while you’re in there.”

The way he spoke with such authority made her think why not? What harm could it do? She was about to walk away, when she realized he was still holding her hand. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Before he let go of her, he slid his fingers gently over the top of her hand, sending little spikes of electricity through her.

“I’ll meet you out front.”

She shook her head, picked up the journal, then took off down the pier. When she reached the back door of the house, she raced inside and up to her grandmother’s bedroom.

She was sitting up in bed, but her eyes were closed.

“Grandmother,” Tara said softly, not wanting to startle her.

The old woman’s eyes fluttered, then she opened them wide. “Oh, Tara. I wasn’t sure if it was you, or I was dreaming.”

She sat on the edge of the bed. “Would you mind if I went out for about an hour? I’ll fix us some dinner when I get back.”

Her grandmother shifted her position on the bed so that her back was up against the headboard. “Where are you going?”

She hesitated a moment before answering. “Easton’s going to show me around the island.”

The old woman raised her brows. “Easton?”

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not a date or anything. We’re just going for a ride.”

Her grandmother got a dreamy look on her wrinkled face. “That’s the best kind of date. When I was young, your grandfather used to take me parking up on Candle Ridge.”

“Grandmother!” Tara jumped to her feet. “I am not going on a date, and I’m certainly not going parking. I’ll see you later.”

Her grandmother chuckled. “Have a good time, dear. You deserve it with all the work you’ve done around here.” She reached for the book and her eyeglasses that were on the nightstand. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to read for a while.”

After she left her grandmother, she went up to her room, tossed the journal on her bed, and rummaged through her duffle bag looking for her favorite gray sweatshirt. She really needed to unpack and organize her things before they became a wrinkled mess. Once she found what she was looking for, she raced down the stairs and out the front door.

Easton was waiting for her next door, leaning up against the hood of his car, looking very James Dean-ish. A warning bell went off in her head that she might be heading for trouble, but as usual, she ignored it. The hint of a smile graced his full mouth as she walked toward him.

“Glad you remembered to bring something to put on in case it gets chilly later,” Easton said, referring to the sweatshirt she carried.

She already felt a drop in temperature as clouds moved in, blocking the sun. Easton opened the door for her, and she slid into the passenger seat.

He knew the island well and maneuvered the Mercedes over the narrow shore-lined road with ease. They passed rows of summer cottages, their white cedar shingles faded by the weather. The road snaked and curved and the beach became rocker. They were on the other side of the island now.

Their windows were open, and the wind blew her hair across her face.

“Growing up, I spent every summer here. I loved it. I still love the island…” The way his voice trailed off implied there was something he didn’t love, though.

She wondered what that was but wasn’t bold enough to ask. Instead, she said, “I can see why you love it here. It’s beautiful.” She gazed out the window at the craggy shore. “And wild.”

“Kind of like me.”

His laugh was infectious, and she laughed too, shifting her gaze onto his face.

“How long are you here for?” he asked.

“Just the summer, then it’s back to New Hampshire, where I have to find a real job.”

“What do you want to do?”

“That’s a good question. I majored in English. Just got my degree. I guess I could teach.”

He glanced at her. “You don’t sound enthused.”

“I don’t know. I like kids. I just don’t know how much I’d like being with them all day every day.”

“I can understand that.”

“What about you? Do you plan on staying here forever?”

“Who knows? Forever’s a long time.” He pulled into the empty parking lot of an old warehouse.

Tara was about to ask where they were when she spotted the Spencer Douglas Brewing Company sign. She checked her watch for the time. It was after five. Everyone must’ve gone home for the day.

“Speaking of jobs,” Easton said, putting the car into park and then turning off the engine, “I thought you might like to see a little bit of your family history. Especially seeing as you seem to have an interest in your grandfather’s life. You might learn something different here than from his journal.”

He got out of the car and came around to open her door. He offered her his hand, and when she took it, her pulse raced. An invisible web of attraction was building between them. It could be dangerous. She could wind up hurt. But she didn’t know how to stop it. And she didn’t know if she wanted to.

He kept his fingers curled around hers as they walked. She was enjoying his closeness and took longer strides to match his. When they reached the door, he put his key in the lock, and a second later, they were inside and in the dark. His fingers brushed her arm, and his touch was oddly soft and caressing, and then they were bathed in bright florescent light. She wondered if he’d intended to touch her or was just searching for the light switch.

He led her down a long hall, where they passed some offices, then into the brewery itself. He flipped on another switch. “You’re looking at over six thousand square feet of brewing magic,” he announced proudly.

He helped her onto the brewing platform and began to explain the process. “This is a brew kettle,” he said, pointing to a stainless-steel piece of equipment. “It’s where things get cooking.” He walked a little farther, stopping in front of some tanks. “These are the hot and cold water tanks, and these,” he pointed to rows of equipment, “are the fermenters. It’s where the yeast is added and where it can actually be called beer for the first time.”

“I’m impressed. I had no idea all this went into producing a bottle of beer.”

He smiled. “There’s a lot more that I haven’t even showed you. I just wanted to give you a taste of the process. Of course, things weren’t as fancy as this in the early days when our grandfathers were running things, but the end results were pretty much the same—produce the best beer possible using the highest-quality ingredients. That’s what made them successful then and keeps us a leader in the region today.”

As he spoke, she found herself studying his profile, and thinking how much she admired his passion.

He must have realized she was staring at him, because he stopped talking about the brewery. “I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

“Not at all. It’s obvious how much you love the business.”

“Funny my dad hasn’t picked up on that.” His jaw tightened, and there was no denying that his mood had changed. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Once they were outside and back in the car, he seemed happier again. As they drove, she noticed the landscape becoming more rugged. There were no more buildings or cottages. Just miles of rocky shore. Even the ocean seemed more extreme. “Where are we going?”

He glanced at her with a crooked smile. “It’s a surprise.”

“This whole ride has been a surprise.”

“Yeah, but this is where I really wanted to take you, so you’ll just have to wait and see.”

She leaned back against the soft leather seat. It was evident they were climbing in elevation, as her ears were popping. A few minutes later, she spotted three cliffs jutting out over the ocean like giant claws. A thought occurred to her. Could he be taking her to Candle Ridge?

 

~*~

 

Easton pulled the car up to the spot with the best view. Below, white-capped waves crashed against giant rocks, sending up sprays of foam. He glanced over at Tara. “What do you think? It’s gorgeous, huh?”

“Spectacular.”

He opened his door and stepped out of the car. “The views are even better out here.”

Tara joined him and stood so close he could feel the heat from her body, making him wonder if his charm might be starting to work on her.

“Are we at Candle Ridge?” she asked.

He looked at her with surprise. “How do you know about Candle Ridge?”

She smiled. “My grandmother told me about it. She used to come here a lot with Grandfather.”

“It’s a favorite spot on the island. Especially for couples. It’s very romantic, don’t you think?”

“With the right person.”

He took a couple of steps forward, bringing him closer to the edge, but Tara didn’t follow. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes were huge round saucers full of fear. “I’m fine here.”

“You’re afraid of heights.”

She nodded.

So that was why she’d stood so close, not because she was warming up to him. Guess he’d have to work a little harder. He sauntered back to her, then hopped onto the hood of the car. “Is this better?”

“You’re sitting on a Mercedes?”

“So? It’s just a car.”

“Yeah, a really, really expensive car. Aren’t you afraid you’re going to dent it?”

He laughed. “Not unless I weighed a ton, and since you don’t either, come sit next to me.” He held his hand out to her. She hesitated before taking it, but then slid her small soft palm into his, and he helped her up. Her nearness kindled feelings in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He swallowed tightly, knowing he’d best suppress them. He had a job to do, and getting emotionally involved with her would only confuse things. “See there?” He pointed across the water. “That’s Boston. If you come here at night, the city lights look like thousands of candles, hence the name Candle Ridge.”

“I’d like to see that.”

“I’ll bring you back sometime.” His eyes locked with hers, and he noticed they’d darkened to a deep blue-gray. Maybe his charm was working a little, after all. “Someone must be missing you a lot this summer.”

“If you’re asking if I have a boyfriend, the answer’s no, and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“Do I detect a note of bitterness?”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Care to talk about it?”

She bit her lip and looked down at the ocean. When she lifted her gaze, there was no missing the pain reflected there. “I had a boyfriend…for five years. He cheated on me. With a good friend.”

He could tell her feelings were still very raw. “Let me guess, that’s why you’re here—to get away.”

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